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You're Old, I'm Old . . . Get Used to It!

Page 18

by Virginia Ironside


  Even if you do understand how the wretched things work, your hands just aren’t as strong as they used to be. When he was about eighteen months old, I was unable to fasten the catch on my grandson’s car seat, and had to improvise by tying a plastic bag to one side of the seat, and then tying that to the finger of a glove, and knotting the whole thing up with a rubbery thing with hooks on the end that you use for keeping suitcases and furniture on the top of your car. In the end, the poor child looked like one of those strange and sinister parcels you sometimes see on the luggage carousel at the airport, a parcel that has apparently been there for years and looks like it will be there for a few years to come. I drove back very slowly indeed, one hand on the wheel and the other on his tummy in case he should suddenly propel himself out through the windshield.

  Another time I couldn’t get his straps open at the other end of the journey. After ten minutes he was yelling and I was crying and feeling so desperate that I was forced to enlist the help of a passing hoodlum who naturally managed to free him at once.

  (There are, if you search the web, granny-friendly products available. There’s a special hip sling for you to wear that enables you to carry a baby without doing your back in, simple travel cots, comprehensible strollers, booster seats, singalong CDs for those ghastly car journeys that feature traditional counting songs, a bath-kneeler, potties, and even a safety pack so you’ve got everything by you in case of emergency.)

  Grannydom flung me into the world of knitting. It threw me back into toy stores where I could browse for hours and find, to my astonishment, that books like The Very Hungry Caterpillar, The Cat in the Hat, and The Tiger Who Came to Tea were still going strong, which was rather a relief. I now search out information on the Net about how to rear tadpoles. I collect bits of candy wrappers, feathers, and colored straws so that we have enough material for collage and painting sessions when my grandsons come to visit. I can’t see a picture of a cow without saying “Mooooo” or a dog without saying “Woof-woof !” It’s got me digging out old recipes for gingerbread men, cheese straws, peppermint creams, and scones. The whole house often smells of baking these days as, after a series of disappointing disasters that had everyone in tears, I practice my skills. (“But Granny, what’s happened to their eyes!” sobbed my grandson when all the gingerbread men came out looking like obese day-trippers, blinded by the sun.)

  I feel an unaccustomed joy with my grandchildren, a joy that I’ve not had in any other relationship—and I’m not the only one. No cowboy was ever faster on the draw than a grandparent pulling a baby picture out of a wallet. And fellow grannies agree that the experience is astonishing, as marvelous as finding, in winter, a solitary rose blooming on a withered branch. (Actually it’s a lot better than that, but you get the gist.) I read recently a quote from G. K. Chesterton, who wrote a hundred years ago that family is “this frail cord, flung from the forgotten hills of yesterday to the invisible mountains of tomorrow”—and when you’re a grandparent it all becomes clear. The realization that life is just a string of people, generation after generation, going on forever, suddenly comes home to you in a way it never could without a grandchild.

  Small wonder that these days I start calling my grandsons by my son’s name, my son by his father’s name, and his father by my grandson’s name. We all seem to be floundering around in one big familial soup.

  Sometimes I wonder if the seeds of my fulfillment in the role of granny hadn’t been sown years and years before, with my own grandmother. She was my lifesaver. She lived below us in our house in London, and when things got too tense within my parents’ loveless marriage, I would go downstairs and find her in her cozy living room, eyes twinkling, full of jokes and affection. She had a magical cupboard stuffed with toys and board games like Chutes and Ladders and Ludo. During hot summers we’d sometimes take a picnic out to the park and eat sugar sandwiches as a treat. She had always wanted to be a comic actress—she constantly sang me the old songs and even took me to see Joyce Grenfell, Flanders and Swan, and even the Crazy Gang. And since I was a lonely only child, I looked forward each year to the time when I would spend a week with her at the seashore, just the two of us. We’d take bags of plums down to the beach each day and, in the evening, visit the carnival down the road. I still remember the sound of the waves mixed with the music from the merry-go-round and the screams from the Big Dipper. Whatever ride I went on, my grandmother was always waiting for me at the end, eyes bright with excitement: “Was it very scary, darling? Was it fun? You’re such a brave girl!”

  When I painted a picture my parents would say, “Oh, fine. Now, have you done your homework?” But if I showed it to my granny, she’d open her eyes wide with astonishment. “Did you really do this? No, you’re joking! It’s just not possible. Let me look at it in the light! But darling, it’s quite astonishingly good! It’s quite wonderful! Would you mind if I got it framed and hung it up in my sitting room so everyone can see it? You draw quite superbly . . . and those colors! Darling, you’re quite amazing!”

  Grandparents share a curious granny camaraderie. The other day one told me about her two granddaughters, one being three years old and the other only nine months. They each had a teddy and she was planning to knit a sweater for both bears.

  The older granddaughter declared that she wanted hers to be sparkly, with gold and pink and silver threaded through, and a star motif on the front. Asked what kind of sweater her granny should knit for her young sister, who was too young to speak her wishes, the child replied, with an evil glint in her eye, “I think gray would be very nice.”

  My own grandson once crept into my bed at five in the morning, claiming that he had woken early because he had had a “deem about piders.”

  “Granny? Granny?” he’d said, when he’d finally managed to wake me up. “I got good idea. You go down the end of the garden and be monster, and I get my sword and I be knight and come and kill you!”

  And a little while later as I stood, waiting behind a tree shivering in my glamorous dressing gown in the cool dawn light at the start of a long, long day, while my grandson charged toward me with his plastic sword, I realized I was happy.

  Isn’t it great, being old?

  Index

  AARP

  ailments

  alphabet, trick for memory

  alternative medicine, banned topic (see also mugging)

  Amstrad, old disks

  anecdotage, reaching your

  anxiety, on highways

  aquagym, limit to personal humiliation

  aquarium, joining an

  argument, life too short for

  Armchair Aerobics

  arousal, A for

  arthritis and mobility

  avocado pear, first, leaflet on

  bag, colostomy

  ballerina (too late to be)

  ballroom dancing, pleasures of

  Bat, Old

  bath handles, portable

  bath mats, mold on bottom of

  Batty Look, better than being invisible

  BBC World Service, decline of boring programs

  beard, on an old man, please do not grow

  Beatles, the

  bickering, irritation of in old couples

  biddy, sad, old

  biking, because of recalcitrant neck, dangerous

  blessed generation, us sixty-year-olds

  book club, don’t join one

  bore, old, why it’s such fun being an

  Boring for Britain

  boy soldiers, clitorectomies performed by

  bungalows, threat to life

  bungee jumping

  BUPA look, the

  busyness, of retired people

  cancer hats

  cane—me, a cane!

  checking yourself in, difficulty of

  Christmas, grisly prospect of more

  civilization, end of

  cloth napkins, tablecloths, muffling material, desirability of

  confidence, at committee m
eetings

  crack cocaine, ayahuasca, ketamine—at last

  CRAFT Moment (see also Senior Moment)

  cremains

  crosswords, joys of

  cruises, horror of

  darling, calling people in sixties (see also sweetie)

  darning mushroom, eating, not

  dates, sell-by, not to worry about

  dating services, sixty-five- to seventy-year-olds, fastest growing users of

  Day, Doris

  death, wonderful to look forward to

  dozing, mouth open, with

  drawing room, Victorian, dark, cluttered, state of older mind

  dress, inability to get out of

  dressing gown, glamorous

  drop, the, not yet experienced

  Edinburgh, one-woman show

  Eeyore mentality

  egg stain, on tie, revolting sight of

  elderly

  England, delights of traveling in

  Facebook, time-consuming

  face-lift, have a

  family tree, boredom of leaping from branch to branch of

  fart, old, meddlesome

  “Favorite Things, My,” Julie Andrews

  feet, extra sensitive

  films, play, walking out of in first ten minutes

  first aid course, taking

  flamingo, on one leg like

  flat tire, ability to ask a man to fix it

  floaters, reading ahead of

  flowers and funerals, lovely

  forgetting plots, joy of

  friends, make, with yourself

  frogs, vilest, yuckiest before prince

  frontal lobes, home of atrophied synapses

  fumbling, less by older men

  funny turns

  G and Ts, at ten in the morning, guiltless

  gardening, as revitalization of sexual performance, beware of

  geezer, old

  Georgie’s Germs

  Germany, special menus for old

  glasses, where are my

  good book, jolly evening spent reading a

  grandchildren, reward for not killing your children

  grannery, to a, get you

  granorak, becoming a

  Grant, Cary, old, fine, how you

  graveyards, packed with old people

  gym, leaving like crushed worm

  height, losing

  Hen, Little Red

  Holland, site of over-fifties town

  hoodlums, fearlessness in facing of

  ironing, sex, preferable to

  Ironside, Dr.

  Jehovah’s Witnesses, tell to bugger off

  knitting

  ladies’ luncheon clubs, talking to

  lasts, nothing, neither happiness nor misery

  Lennon, John, thinking really something

  let yourself go, no excuse to

  life story, writing your

  lists, making

  living will, every corner, stashed in

  loafing, pleasure of

  lodgers, dealing sternly with

  loneliness, biting in heart

  long-jumper (too late to be)

  long-term memory, pleasure of

  love letters, importance of burning old

  lovers, better when older

  lumps on legs, some women looking like

  lunch, what’s for, pet

  makeup, don’t stint

  map, to show which fellow insomniacs are awake

  Matisse, owner of colostomy bag (see R. J. Mitchell)

  Mead, Margaret, view on relationship between grandparents and grandchildren

  memory loss, cause of rejoicing

  Miami, God’s Waiting Room

  minimalist flat, bare, wretched, bleak, state of young mind

  models, elderly

  Mongolia, bicycling across

  mortuary, corpses, packed to portholes with

  Mother’s Little Helpers, no reason not to get addicted

  mugging, banned topic (see also alternative medicine)

  museum, darkness reduced entry fee (Nah nah nah-nah nah!”)

  names, forgetting

  nation’s wealthpercent owned by over-sixties

  New Age retiree

  new life, desirability

  new life, undesirability

  nose drip

  old friends, never introduce to others

  organ recital

  packing, weeks in advance

  pajamas

  partner, leaving

  paunches, can’t be helped, even on old muscle men

  pedestrian crossing, bumpy dots, agony of

  pets, get two

  pigeon, flabbergasted with delight

  pills, running across room to hear more

  pregnant, get, never again

  prescription, free (Nah nah nah-nah nah!”),

  present, great time to die

  presents, only consumable or shortlived

  Proust, new appeal of

  puppetry, new appeal of

  ratchets, dropping a few

  roast rat, first

  reflux, acid

  restaurants, making complaints in

  R. J. Mitchell, owner of colostomy bag, (see Matisse)

  rubber gloves, rubber bands turning into

  ’60s, if remembered you weren’t there

  safari, never wear anything that looks as if going on

  Secret Santa, pleasure of never again receiving a present from

  senior

  senioritis, suffering from

  Senior Moment (see also CRAFT Moment)

  sex, advantages of not having

  sheepdogs, small, having on your chin

  shopping, till I’ve dropped, I’ve never

  silver pound, preferable to gray pound

  silver tsunami, predicted by Martin Amis

  sixty (going on twenty), (new thirty), (fifty ten)

  SKIers, horrible people who spend their kids’ inheritance

  skin tags, excision by scissors

  skirt, taking off my, at X-ray machine

  sleep

  inability to

  beside someone night after night, horror of having to

  smoking, only allowed in house, not garden

  smoking room, in tolerant hospices

  soap, old, boiling down of

  spittle, dried, wipe constantly

  Stannah Stairlifts

  strangers, smiling broadly at

  Sunshine Home, sorry, completely forgot to mention this in book, nowhere to be found

  Swedenpercent of married men over seventy still having sex

  sweetie, calling people in sixties (see also Darling)

  synapses, atrophying of

  talking to yourself, pleasure of

  television set, no one had a

  tests, with good-looking male nurses

  tights, putting on like hedgehog

  Tintern Abbey, wouldn’t mind looking like

  toenails, cutting

  tongues, clean with bicarbonate of soda

  too late, it is too late

  treadmill, twelve minutes on

  tricks, memory

  trousers, for women, avoid

  Turkish carpet, dressed simply in

  ugh, hoisting yourself up

  undertaker training

  upper arms, pinching into skin peaks

  veins

  walker, decorated with lights

  watercolorist, pointlessness of becoming a mediocre one in later life

  white stockings, in hospitals, refusal to wear

  wig, swallow pride and get one

  wings, bat

  young, to the old, like a drug

  PERMISSIONS

  “What Fifty Said” from The Poetry of Robert Frost edited by Edward Connery Lathem, published by Jonathan Cape. Reprinted by permission of The Random House Group Ltd.

  Virginia Woolf letter from The Letters of Virginia Woolf by Virginia Woolf, published by Hogarth Press. U
sed by permission of the executors of the Virginia Woolf Estate and The Random House Group Ltd.

  Diana Athill quote from Diana Athill interview with K ira Cochrane. Copyright Guardian News & Media Ltd 2009.

  Maurice Goudeket, The Delights of Growing Old, reproduced by permission of Pollinger Ltd and Maurice Goudeket.

  John Cooper Pow ys quote reproduced by permission of Pollinger Ltd and the Estate of John Cooper Powys.

  “Ain’t It Grand to be Bloomin’ Well Dead.” Words and music by Leslie Sarony © Copyright 1932 (renewed 1949), Campbell Connelly & Company Ltd. All Rights Reserved. International Copyright Secured. Used by permission of Music Sales Limited.

  A. J. P. Taylor quote from the Evening Standard.

  Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck (Penguin Books, 1992). Copyright © The Curtis Publishing Company Inc., 1961, 1962. Copyright © John Steinbeck, 1962. Copyright renewed Elaine Steinbeck, Thom Steinbeck and John Steinbeck IV, 1989, 1990. Reproduced by permission of Penguin Books Ltd and Curtis Brown Group Ltd.

  Carl Jung quote from Aspects of the Masculine (Ark), p. 33.

  Robert Conquest limerick reproduced by permission of Curtis Brown Group Ltd, London on behalf of Robert Conquest. Copyright © Robert Conquest, 2007.

  Ogden Nash poem. Copyright © 1956 by Ogden Nash. Reprinted by permission of Curtis Brown Group Ltd.

  Robert Conquest limerick reproduced by permission of Curtis Brown Group Ltd, London on behalf of Robert Conquest. Copyright © Robert Conquest, 2007.

  Cosmo Landesman quote from Starstruck, Macmillan 2008.

  Every effort has been made to contact copyright holders. The publishers will be glad to rectify in future editions any errors or omissions brought to their attention.

 

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